


orbital

by mido



Category: Lamento -BEYOND THE VOID-
Genre: First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 11:51:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15885489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mido/pseuds/mido
Summary: Perhaps it was fate-- perhaps it was just the song.(for @raerainbows)





	orbital

**Author's Note:**

> hello rae, i was your gifter!! i hope it isn't too much of a problem that i was late, and i hope you enjoy!

The night is quiet when the sound comes, and it stays that way until it ceases. It’s not a very assuming noise, one that you may have to strain your ears to hear, just ever so slightly; but still something that when you notice, you can’t seem to ignore. Something that drifts on the breeze, weaving its way into your chest and slipping silently between your lungs and your ribcage like silky fingers, reaching into the depths of your heart to cradle it in its palm; it is that kind of sound. It is a sweet sound, as if the notes themselves condense on your tongue like sap, dripping out from your bottom lip and covering you head to toe in amber. A sound that given the opportunity, you would pursue, if you had not already relented to its languid pace.

The Moon of Shadow hangs in the sky like a dot of yang in a sea of yin, dangling from the ear of Ribika to grant her children mercy with its guiding light. Leaks finds himself captivated, for just a moment, by the beauty of the scene; pinpricks of white splatter the sky with twinkling, placid color, the Moon shines dazzlingly for every one of the millions of miles separating it from Leaks, and there’s not a cloud to be witnessed. Moonrays drip from the leaves of Leaks’s garden along the open window, spilling light onto the floorboards and drenching Leaks himself in a hue of blue-grey. His eyes, honeyed in color and soft around the edges with only a hint of a spiderweb at the corners, peer up through thick black lashes at what must be the grace of Ribika herself, shrouding Sisa’s forests in pale, silvery riverstreams. 

He drags his gaze away, returning it to the worn, leather-bound spellbook in his hands. He’s been studying it for days now-- Bojyo-sensei had given it to him, an old thing that Leaks was ecstatic to receive (though he didn’t show it, of course). He’d only mastered a bit of the magick within its yellowed pages, but he hadn’t shown signs of giving up as of yet. One in particular, the one he was studying now, had caught his eye; it was not a creation or destruction spell, but rather one of change. With the right balance, incantation and thoughts, he could fold flower blossoms back into buds, fade foliage back into ungrowth, and reverse the progress of nature herself. It was intriguing, mystifying how such a thing were possible-- of course, in this world where clairvoyance and creation from nothing as well as decimation of matter itself existed, Leaks supposes anything is possible.

Still, his ears prick up when that lovely sound begins again, as if it had never ceased. It’s reminiscent of a song, with the plucking of notes resounding in his ears on what must be something like a lute. The young, wild cat in him wants to jump from his seat and seek it out, track down that beautiful noise and pounce, but Leaks’s self control has grown since he first met Bojyo-sensei-- he is no longer that feral and immature cat, knowing nothing other than his own stomach’s hunger. Now, he is wise and grown, further off than even his past self’s wildest dreams of the future him.

Of course, that’s what he tells himself as he sighs, dog-ears his page as a bookmark, and stands to leave his home. 

Leaks mutters a light spell under his breath as he opens the door to the outside, concealed beneath the underbrush that parts as he walks through. His fingertips begin to glow with soft warmth, like the glint of silver under the Moon of Shadow as he passes through the forest under Ribika’s watchful gaze. The sound grows more and more assuming as he ventures toward the south, farther from Ransen than he usually prefers to be (except when on a mission from Bojyo-sensei). He knows of a couple villages around this part, but Leaks has been slacking on his geography lately-- He knows the cursed village, Kira, isn’t too far from his location, but wasn’t there another closeby? Perhaps that was the origin of that ethereal music.

Taking a chance, Leaks walks deeper into the forest. Monsters dwell in these parts, he recalls dully, but for some reason he finds that he would not mind striking down a beast or two in order to reach the culprit, if the creator of such a thing can even be called that. 

After some time he reaches the village on his mind, torches flickering with flame at the entrance. _Karou_ , he remembers, that’s what this place is called. The song is surely coming from this settlement, as it’s louder here than anywhere else, yet still somewhat quiet. Leaks wants to hear more, he realizes then-- he wants this moonlit medley to continue endlessly, to echo in his ears until he releases himself to the spidery claws of slumber, which will likely take place early when the Moon of Light arises. He wishes to unravel this mystery simultaneously, however; a melancholic feeling settles in his gut at the idea that his curiosity may cause the song to come to a halt, but he ignores it out of, ironically, curiosity.

The village is silent at this time of night sans the music, and if Leaks strains his ears he can make out the snores of sleeping cats from their stick-paneled windows. He tiptoes over twigs and rocks, taking care to keep his boots from making any unnecessary noise that would disturb not only the composer, but the village inhabitants themselves. He finds only one hut lit up as if someone were there, still awake-- lit with a guiding leaf, rather than a palmful of fire like most cats tend to use. He peers through the window inconspicuously, paying no mind to the voice in his head telling him that he’s acting rather unsightly all from this song. Maybe it was a magick song, whispering desires into his mind that he hadn’t actually had, such as the urge to seek out its caster. Leaks supposes that’s certainly a possibility, but what would be the purpose, with a lilt so calm and warm? What would be the purpose, if it weren’t for the destruction of others, as all magickal songs tended to be intended for?

Inside the hut is a single cat, likely older than Leaks yet not by much. His red hair tumbles down his shoulders like a fiery waterfall, almost making the other do a double take-- he’d thought the hut wasn’t lit by flame at all. A thickly knit scarf hangs around his neck, and his white ears recede into a honey-brown color at the tips. Leaks thinks numbly of his own, blackened as if soot-stained, just like his tail. 

When the cat turns slightly, Leaks can make out his closed eyes, shut peacefully as he strums the gold-lined lute in his hands with his long nails. Hearing the song at this proximity fills Leaks with a languid bliss, yet a slight sadness is planted inside him as well. He wonders about the medley’s creation, about why it was created, and he feels his body slowly giving in to the magick of the music, no matter how nonexistent it should’ve been. 

As if on cue, the cat’s eyes open silently, and Leaks has the opportunity to gaze upon the most beautiful green he’s ever had the chance to witness. Not foliage nor spring ferns would do it justice, he thinks-- not even the soft greenish glow of the guiding leaf, nor the hue of the Moon of Light when the world below reflects upwards. He’s almost too awestruck by that alone to realize the song has ended, and that emerald gaze now rests on him.

His eyes widen and he scrambles to think of something to do, like ducking and fleeing or asking for the other to continue. “Hello.” He blurts out, racking his brain for the last incantation he learned to summon a monster of his own as his face turns pink. The cat blinks at him. “Hello.” They answer carefully.

\--In that moment of locked sights and reddening cheeks, Leaks wakes.

Shui stirs next to him at his movement, despite him having made little to none aside from sitting up. “Good morning.” He says, threading a hand through crimson locks like a child playing with fire. Shui cracks one eye open barely and smiles groggily up at Leaks, reaching up a hand to cup his cheek, still warm with fluster. “What did you dream about?” Shui teases, rubbing his thumb over Leaks’s skin and laughing when Leaks puts on a pouty expression. “Nothing much.” He mumbles, twirling a strand of Shui’s hair between his fingers, and smiles a little when the other leans into his touch and purrs. 

 

His song still rings in Leaks’s ears even as he pulls the other down for a kiss.


End file.
